


Focus

by AHS



Category: Actor RPF, Queer as Folk (US) RPF
Genre: M/M, Smut, blindfold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-10
Updated: 2008-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHS/pseuds/AHS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanging out and helping Gale with a role turns into a lot more. NC-17.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Focus

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I made this up.

The challenge for Gale is, as it ever was, how to _not_ focus on Randy.

When he had called Randy and told him he’d gotten a part, a leading one, albeit in another _very_ independent film, his friend had been thrilled. When he’d told Randy he would be playing a blind man, he’d been full of himself ( _“What did I tell you? Did I call it or what? I totally called it!”_ ).

When he’d told him it was shooting in New York, Randy had been… quiet. Followed by layers of elated and terrified and hopeful under casual, which Gale could still filter out and recognize, even after years of not really talking enough and seeing each other less than that.

Two weeks after that phone call, Gale was newly arrived in the city, and Randy’s knock was carrying across his hotel room. Gale made quick strides, trying to pretend he didn’t check his reflection in the bathroom mirror on the way, then pressed his eye to the peephole and lips to the door.

“Who goes there?”

“The big bad wolf,” rumbled the silky deep voice.

“Really?” Gale swung the door open at that and took in his beautiful visitor, with his eyes and his hands, pulling him inside. “I thought that was me.”

Randy couldn’t help a wicked little smile. “Come to think of it, I do have a vague recollection of you huffing and puffing and blow-…”

“ _Hey_.”

Gale wrapped an arm around the back of Randy’s neck and pulled him in, silencing his suggestive mouth against warm shoulder. Randy went willingly, enveloping the familiar long body in kind, reminding himself that some things were probably best not brought up… at least, _not yet_.

“Sorry.”

Gale stepped back, shrugged. “Don’t be. But, uh…” He glanced quickly around the room, seeing far too many accommodating surfaces. “You hungry? Want to grab some lunch… out somewhere?”

“Sure. Sounds great.”

**********

  


“You know, you just can’t get properly greasy pizza in L.A.”

Randy watched Gale drip a sizable puddle of grease off his slice, onto the plate, then wrinkled his nose in disgust as Gale dripped the grease back onto his pizza and took a big bite.

“Eww.”

“Hey, I’ll take anything without fucking avocado on it,” Gale shivered, laughing, and then… _not_ laughing, as he watched Randy nibble a string of mozzarella into his mouth and tried desperately not to want to be cheese. He cleared his throat. “I really appreciate it, you know. Taking your one day off to hang out with me.”

“Of course… Last time you were here, we didn’t really get a chance to…” Randy’s words were left to fade.

Gale had come to New York about four months earlier to see Randy’s play. Randy had talked to him for only about ten minutes afterwards, before apologizing profusely and saying he needed to get home to Simon, and that he hoped whatever meeting or audition had brought Gale to the city went great. Gale forced a smile and said, “Thanks,” but he wanted to shake Randy out of their rushed hug and yell, _“Don’t I fucking always come see your shows? I don’t need a reason but you!”_ Instead, he’d watched Randy go, and returned to the west coast a day earlier than planned.

“Yeah… S’okay, you were busy. And I didn’t give you much warning.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be… Now you’re doing _another_ play… I admire how fucking dedicated you always are, to the theatre, to… Simon.”

Gale’s eyes were casually focused on his napkin, but on the last word they stole up to Randy and took note of the way his face twitched. His suspicions that Randy was keeping something hidden grew stronger when, rather than launching into Simon anecdotes the way he usually did to thin the atmosphere between them, he coughed, smiled far too brightly, and completely changed the topic.

“So, tell me all about your movie, your character.”

Gale allowed it because the script for this one did not suck. Also, he enjoyed telling how the director had fucking sought him out, never having seen an episode of _Queer As Folk_ , but having caught a rerun of his _SVU_ ep, of all things. He wasn’t sure how the sick fuck he’d been there had convinced the guy he’d make the perfect blind protagonist, but he’d take it. He worried briefly that some organization of sight-challenged actors would protest, but Randy helpfully pointed out that they probably wouldn’t spend too much outrage on a movie they’d never heard of. Gale winged a red pepper packet at his forehead, grinning.

“I am kinda nervous,” he admitted. “I understand the character. I’m mostly worried about the nuts and bolts of playing blind. I don’t want to be shit.”

Randy rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to be shit. You’re going to be THE shit.”

Gale cracked up, but the praising bee-stung lips kept on, unflappable.

“I told you, you were made for this.”

“I’m meeting with somebody tomorrow who’s supposed to ‘train’ me. Give me one of those canes, I think. Help me not wound myself again.”

Randy noticed Gale rubbing his leg and reached a hand under the table, their fingers colliding on his knee. “What’d you do?”

“Tried to walk around my apartment with my eyes closed. Wasn’t very good at it.” Gale felt like a dumbass, but at the moment, he was a dumbass with tingly knuckles… that Randy suddenly squeezed.

“Come on. I think you need a little pre-training with someone you trust.”

“That’s a short list,” Gale mumbled, pulling his hat down over his eyes as he followed Randy out to the busy sidewalk.

“Me,” Randy said, hanging back and grabbing his companion’s elbow. Gale nodded.

“Yup, that’s the list.”

**********

  


“You brought movies?”

“Yes.” Randy pulled them out of his bag one by one and tossed them on the bed. “ _Ray, Scent of a Woman_ … Both featuring Oscar-winning portrayals of blind characters… _Wait Until Dark_ , very creepy, and Audrey was nominated…”

Gale picked up a DVD in disbelief. “ _Ice Castles_? The blind ice skater? Really?”

“It was nominated for an Oscar… for Best Song.” Randy went from sheepish to impish, singing saccharinely. “ _‘Through the eyes of looooove…’_ ”

“This is pre-training?”

“Hmm, part of it.”

“You’ve got half a dozen movies here. How… long are you…?”

“I doubt we’ll watch them all, but you’ve got me for the day.”

After that, Gale relaxed quite a bit.

Randy popped popcorn in the microwave, and they kicked shoes and socks off, settling back on opposite sides of the bed. They watched _Butterflies Are Free_ , because Randy said the lead did a really good job, and that Gale would find him and Goldie Hawn both hot, and he was right on all counts. Then they watched _Wait Until Dark_ , which Gale had already seen, but he enjoyed it all the more for Randy putting the last light out for the finale and jumping distinctly closer when the villain lunged for Audrey Hepburn out of nowhere.

“What are you doing?” Randy whispered several minutes later, looking down at the arm slung over his chest and up to its owner’s face.

“Trying to keep you from jumping out of your skin.” Gale lamented that he wasn’t actually touching Randy’s skin… just his shirt… but still…

“Gale, the movie’s over.”

The arm reluctantly moved, and Randy got up and turned off the DVD, and the TV, and turned one low light back on. And Gale, rather than wonder if Randy was leaving yet, reached for his cigarettes and lighter.

“Wait, don’t.”

Gale stopped. “Did you quit or something?”

“No, no. I want you to do it _blind_.”

“Ahh,” he laughed, “I get you. But…” Flicked the lighter, eyebrow raising.

“I won’t let you set yourself on fire, I promise.”

“That’s reassuring, Rand, thanks.”

But Gale closed his eyes, tried to be very Zen, and reached to the bedside table for his pack of cigarettes, finding it on his hand’s second landing. He pulled one out easily, placed it between his lips, and then came at it slowly with an only somewhat shaky flame.

“That’s it. You got it!” Randy congratulated as he made contact, then... “Okay, it’s lit. Pull back, pull back!”

Gale opened his eyes quickly, relieved to see that his hand was not ablaze, and took a much needed puff. “What’s next, Teach?”

Randy walked up and took Gale’s cigarette, inhaling deeply once as he examined the room, then stubbed it out.

“Hey, I wasn’t done with that.”

Randy smiled. “Try a couple times around the room.”

“Shit, you’re bossy, aren’t you? I already bruised and battered myself doing that at home, where I fucking _know_ the layout, or at least should.”

Randy just smiled wider.

**********

  


Twenty-five minutes later, Gale could walk to the door, put on the chain, go to the sink, wash his hands, find a towel without _too_ much dripping, walk to the mini-fridge and remove a soda, sidestep the table and chair (containing Randy), and sit down on the bed, without peeking once. And he only acquired two new bruises.

“Thing is, though… Well, how are they gonna do it? Your character’s not wearing sunglasses or something for the whole movie, is he?”

“No.” He should have known it was too soon to celebrate a moment of triumph.

Randy scooted his chair forward to face Gale at the foot of the bed. “Then you need to learn how to have the ability to see and not use it. Un-focus.”

“Un-focus?”

“Like you’re looking at one of those 3-D magic eye pictures, or whatever they’re called.”

“I hate those fucking things. I’m supposed to see a boat? I don’t see shit.”

“Okay then, just be you. When you’re walking a crowded city sidewalk, keeping your eyes just slightly down, relaxed, so it’s not so much… So you don’t see all the people seeing you.”

Gale chuckled a little, understanding finally why Randy had been saying for so long he should play this kind of role. “I can do that… except…”

“Except what?”

Except that it’s fucking impossible to not focus on Randy when he’s sitting right in front of you. When he’s anywhere in the room. Gale had a hard enough time not focusing on him when he was 2800 miles out of sight.

He wondered if Randy realized how close he had leaned in as he’d talked, or that his hands had taken up residence on Gale’s thighs, burning his skin through the denim. He wondered if Randy realized how entirely his blue eyes were fixed on Gale’s hazel.

“What about those contacts that white out the eyes, make them look all cloudy?” Randy asked suddenly, before Gale could think of anything he could say out loud. His voice was soft. “Are you gonna have to wear those?”

“No. Why? You thinking they’d help me cheat?”

“No. I was just thinking it would be a shame… to cover them up.”

The room’s low light made Randy’s blue darker than usual, and the hum of street noise making its way in through the closed window did nothing to water down the potent silence. Gale swallowed and the small sound rang out like a shot. A hand brushed his cheek and his eyes fell closed.

“Rand…”

Suddenly, Gale felt him get up and hurry across the room, and he thought maybe they’d allowed things to get too real and Randy would be leaving now.

“One more thing to try,” Randy said, silken voice only a bit frayed. Gale looked up, surprised, as he walked back over. A strip of black cloth hung from pale hands.

A blindfold.

Before Gale could tell his mind not to venture to the places it automatically wanted to, Randy was sitting next to him on the bed and tying the blindfold over his eyes.

“Is that too tight? Can you see anything?”

“It’s fine, and no, I can’t. But what’s…?” Gale shifted tactics and position, folding a leg under him and turning towards his now invisible other. “I thought I needed to learn how to un-focus.”

“You also need to know how _to_ focus,” Randy said. “On all your other senses.”

“What do you want me to do? You want me to touch your face or something? _Feel_ what you look like?” The joking sarcasm in his voice just came out pained.

“Okay.”

Gale’s wrist was clasped and hand guided up to rest long fingers upon a deceptively cool brow. They slid over smooth skin for a moment before stilling.

“Rand, I know what you look like.” Gale didn’t get the purpose of this exercise. He just knew it felt like torture. “I know what you _feel_ like,” he said more honestly, “…everywhere.”

“Then what do you have to be afraid of?”

He could think of too many answers, but he let the breaths of warm air dancing against his palm blow them away. Let his fingertips slowly sweep the planes of the face he’d kissed every inch of, on camera and off. He’d long memorized this face. From the few strands of hair trickling down over the forehead, ever so slight dip in the center, to the tickle of his eyebrows, velvet lids, flutter of long lashes. The strong nose, rounded at the tip, that made him cuter than he wanted to be. Gale let his fingers spread over soft cheeks to a scratchy jawline, purposely avoiding the best part. Not touching the dangerously curving mouth… the bow-shaped top, thin enough to slip so naturally between Gale’s… or the full lower lip, that was made for his to have a place to land. He wasn’t touching…

But Randy changed the rules. Tilted his head, quirked his jaw just enough. Relaxed his mouth and cowardly fingers slipped inside. The index, the middle, just a little. Warm. Wet. In the dark, Gale could actually hear the wetness bathing his skin. Feel Randy’s tongue nudge him, caress him. Hear a gasp he was pretty sure was his and accelerating heartbeats he couldn’t tell apart. _Fuck._ What was he…

“What are you doing?” Gale pulled his hand away just before lips could surround too tightly, and he held the fingers pressed to his side, as if scalded.

“When one sense is taken away, the others are heightened. You need to experience it.”

Weight shifted, the mattress quietly creaked, and those same lips were in Gale’s neck. Rubbing, teeth lightly scraping. Hands on shoulders, massaging. Scent so subtle and too fucking strong under his nose, all over him. Too fast, too… wrong like this…

“Rand, what the fuck!”

Gale sprang back this time, with so much force that Randy had to grab his arm to keep him from falling backwards off the bed. Feeling him tense at that contact, Randy soon let go.

“I wanted to… help you.”

“That was not helping a fellow actor or even a friend. That was… Try again.”

“I miss you.”

Gale attempted to tuck his heart securely in his chest. They didn’t say these things. At least not in that voice, like that, threaded with desire. Maybe it had always been there, but it was impossible to ignore it like this. His own voice struggled for air, for words, but found none.

“…I know I’m not supposed to say it, I know I’m breaking our rules…”

At that, Gale laughed. “They were always your rules more than mine. You needed us to be _safe_ territory, so you could keep being the good boyfriend.” He quieted, hearing Randy’s breathing stop for a second. He remembered who Randy had seemed to avoid talking about all day. “What’s going on with you and Simon?”

The answer came with no pause. “Nothing. We broke up.”

Gale felt… too many things to even make sense of, but what rose to the top in that moment was feeling stupid and at a disadvantage for having the blindfold on, so he reached to yank it off.

“Please, Gale… Could you leave it on?”

“Can’t look me in the eye?” he challenged, but his hand dropped to the bedspread.

“I can. And, by the time I’m done, I’ll really need to. But I think it’ll be easier… to say everything I have to say.”

“You said you and Simon broke up. And now you miss me.” Gale sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Rand, if you’re hurting. You know I am. But I don’t want to be your substitute, or your therapy, because you two just...”

“I _always_ miss you. And we didn’t ‘just’… It happened… a while ago.”

“What’s ‘awhile ago’?”

“Less than a week after… the last time I saw you.”

The small talk? The brush-off? “That was months ago.”

Randy was silent confirmation.

“This major thing happens in your life and… you didn’t think it was worth mentioning to me?”

“Obviously I did. But I…”

“Who did the _breaking_?”

“I guess I did, at least to start. By the end, it was pretty mutual.”

The next question should have been _why_. Why it happened. Why now, after so many years. Why after they had seen each other, if that even had anything to do with it. But part of Gale wasn’t sure he wanted to know, so he just asked...

“Why didn’t you say anything until now?”

Randy’s words shook a little. “I was… afraid. I still am.”

“Of what?”

“Of it not making a difference. Being available but you still being a world away. And I don’t just mean in Los Angeles.”

He knew what he meant. “Rand…”

“It’s one thing to think ‘If only…’ but know it can’t happen. It’s another knowing it could happen but it won’t.”

“Rand, quit with the fucking tortured poetry and tell me what you want,” Gale snapped, and Randy’s volume rose in response.

“I want to be able to keep believing we would be together if not for Simon!”

Gale couldn’t help but picture Randy’s face with every word he spoke, and the desperation and sadness he “saw” at that moment nearly broke him.

“I don’t want to lose that hope and lose you.” It was in his voice, too, now softer, almost resigned. “And I don’t want to ask you to change how you live your life or give more than you’re comfortable giving.”

For some reason, that pissed Gale off. “Thanks for thinking so much of me.”

“What would you have done, Gale? If I’d called you and told you I was ready to be with you? Maybe using words like ‘relationship’? You would have freaked the fuck out.”

“Don’t tell me what I would have done. You don’t know. I don’t even know!” Gale pushed away and lay back, frustrated, head dropping to the pillows.

“We both know. I’m not even talking about admitting to the world that sometimes you like cock. I’m saying you don’t do well in relationships. You date and you fuck and you change partners often...”

“Did you ever think that maybe I do that because none of them are you?”

That shut him up for a second. “…No, I… didn’t.”

“You should.”

Silence stretched again, until a rustling that grew closer. Randy was taking advantage of Gale’s vulnerable position. He straddled his waist and pulled the blindfold off at the same time. Gale didn’t try to move. He just blinked, the dim light seeming brighter than it was after total blackness. But then Randy’s face dipped lower, and all he could see was that blue.

“Okay, I will… if you think about something for me,” Randy whispered.

“What’s that?”

“This.”

And Gale knew he was going to do it, but that didn’t lessen the sparks in his stomach when Randy brushed lips against his. When he slowly and deliberately dragged the inside of his bottom lip across Gale’s top lip, to wet it. When Randy’s tongue _didn’t_ push its way in, but mouth instead fell open, hovered and waited for Gale to want to crawl inside and make a home there… and he did.

Fingernails dug into Gale’s arms as his fingers found Randy’s hair and tugged, his tongue seeking deeper entrance to the man who was always his but never to keep. Eyes wide open, seeing, tasting, reclaiming. Everything familiar and brand new and so fucking long-missed.

Hot hands were sneaking under Gale’s shirt, up his belly and over his ribs and up to his nipples. Then there was desperate yanking at sleeves and buttons until each had won the other’s shirt and tossed it in favor of the naked skin revealed. Mouths still connected, letting go only for brief, frantic excursions to nibble chins and suck at collarbones. Bodies crashing and clinging, the need for _more skin NOW_. Hardness pushing into hardness, driving both close to madness.

A forgotten piece of cloth grazed Gale’s shoulder and gave him an idea. He grabbed it as he rolled Randy underneath him, then dangled it above his head.

“I think it’s your turn, Rand,” he rasped, and started to cover the gorgeous eyes gazing up at him with the blindfold.

“Not yet,” Randy breathed.

“And why not?”

“I get to see you first.”

Gale kissed his nose in understanding and chuckled a little, mixing with a groan as he moved away from Randy and off the bed. Randy had always loved to watch him strip, not that he put on much of a show. He stood up and locked their gazes the whole time he was unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them over his hips, down his thighs, kicking them off. The same for the boxer briefs. Randy’s eyes now on his cock, erect and exposed, Gale languidly stroked.

There was a low moan, and Randy’s hands worked quickly to open his pants as well. Gale stepped forward, towards raised hips, and pulled the material from those legs he could never decide if he liked best pinning him down or thrown over his shoulders. Then he rejoined his lover on the bed.

“Now,” Gale said, and Randy winked, happily letting himself be blindfolded.

Once Randy’s sense of sight was taken away, Gale set about seeing how he could heighten the others… particularly _touch_. He marveled once more at the creamy paleness of Randy, yet the chocolate color of his nipples, and he licked at the small circles of skin. He licked and blew cool air and sucked, tasting sweetness. He felt the taut expanse of Randy’s stomach ripple like the surface of a lake in the rain as he played across it, nuzzling his nose into the belly button. Fingers fumbling into his hair, sifting, caressing, as he slid down the beautiful body, kissing his way lower.

Gale mouthed Randy’s dick through the cotton and had to hold him down, he squirmed so much. He breathed him in, felt him seeping into his veins again, and thought how even able to see, all his senses were sharper around Randy. Finally, Gale took hold of the waistband and drew the underwear down and off him, letting him spring free, heavy and hard.

Randy gasped from just the sensation of the air hitting him, and Gale’s focus kept fighting itself, from Randy’s cock to his face… blindfolded, trusting, flushed, mouth open… and back again. Gale slipped his hands under Randy’s lower back, already damp with sweat, and cradled him closer as he ran his tongue along his length. As his tongue pushed at Randy’s balls, then as he took his cock deep into his mouth and manipulated them with his fingers. All Gale could think was, _Fuck I’ve needed this… Fuck I’ve missed him._

Heat and wet surrounded Randy, and pressure, dragging, and everything he felt was times ten… Fuck, added to the times a hundred of just being with Gale, versus anyone else. In the dark, all he could see was a shimmer of pleasure building beneath his eyelids, but he could hear Gale’s every little hum. Every slide of his lips over him, every movement, every suck. Though they were nearly drowned out by the sounds of Randy’s own breaths, own moans and sighs, own heart beating out of his chest and echoing in his ears. And if Gale kept going… he would… he would… _so loud_ …

Gale drank the warm rush of cum as Randy’s orgasm bubbled up through him and erupted in his mouth, then found himself unable to stop smiling. Though not as loud in actuality as in Randy’s own head, Gale couldn’t help but wonder absently if the whole hotel hadn’t heard the guy come.

Come for _him_.

He covered Randy completely with his body and climbed, finding handholds and footholds, kissing his chest and kissing his lips. Tasting Randy on Randy as Gale’s cock, now hard as _fucking_ steel, rubbed and prodded the spent one beneath it back to life.

And Randy’s nostrils were filled with the scent of smoke and musk and leather and spicy pizza sauce, which smelled like Gale and therefore _sex_ , and he was hard again.

The fingers of Randy’s right hand were strumming Gale’s ribcage to a tune that made the hairs on the back on Gale’s neck stand up, but his left hand was reaching blindly off to the side. He just missed making contact with his knapsack, about to fall off the bed, so Gale snatched it before it could.

“You need something out of here?”

That _voice_ … There went the little hairs on the back of Randy’s neck.

“I thought _you_ might.”

Gale raised up on one elbow, his breathing heavy, and reached into the bag, squinting at the contents. Locating and removing the sought after items, he bit his lip and spoke seriously.

“Condoms and a bottle of lube… under a DVD of _Ice Castles_ … Rand, this is the gayest bag ever.”

Even without seeing his eyes, it was hypnotizing watching the laughter slowly take over Randy’s face. Watching his cheeks fill and his forehead scrunch and his lips spill over, a little and then more, with sound and breath and happiness, and mouth pause in faux disapproval that couldn’t even last. Gale laughed, too, and sank his forehead to Randy’s. Randy, who started clutching Gale’s hair, kissing Gale’s teeth, the sides of his grin, still giggling, until an unexpected half-laugh half-cry…

“God, I love you so much.”

Just a whisper, really. Just another exhalation. Except then everything got quiet… all except heartbeats… and Randy held his breath, and Gale took a breath and made sure.

“What did you say?”

He had to check because they didn’t say that. They _knew_ … even if most often they pretended it was on a less complicated, more acceptable level… but they didn’t say. They hadn’t said the words in, what… seven years? The one and only time they’d said them (not counting _Larry_ fucking _King_ )… because that was also how they had known it was time to stop trying to have it all. Lovers without strings, without hearts attached to those strings, hadn’t been so easy to live by. Better to go back to coworkers and friends before they lost that, too.

They’d slipped and fallen back to each other once or twice, even after… _him_ … but never… said…

Gale saw something like fear and reason creep into Randy’s face, and he couldn’t let it… He needed to really see…

He hooked a finger under the blindfold and pulled it off quickly, nearly tangling in the brownish blond hair. Oceans, dilated and dark, blinked in panic but then held open under examination. Open, shining and deep, not hiding anything felt for the examiner.

Gale didn’t remember Randy taking the lube from him, or the tear of the condom wrapper, but he was very aware of the hands stroking him gently, holding firmly and preparing him. He just couldn’t look away from Randy’s eyes, even as he was guided to press against his opening. As legs embraced him and needy touches skimmed his muscled back and dug into his ass, urging him on. As he pushed and sank inside.

“Gale!”

Inside Randy, he understood that every fucking move he’d made all these years, even if it had taken him farther away, had just been him treading water until he could get back _here_. Inside Randy, Gale lived and died a thousand times.

He pulled out and slammed back in and saw every feeling produced unfurl in Randy’s eyes, both source and reflection. Knew his were the same. Hoped Randy could see.

“You know… _Fuck_ , you know I…”

Gale’s voice was raw, telling, but also pleading. Randy nodded his head yes, over and over… _Yes yes yes…_

Hips snapped and control shredded and Gale pushed down on sinew and strength, leaving finger marks on the backs of pure white thighs. He took the welcome offered by Randy’s body and gave in return, fucking harder and loving harder and honestly and absolutely.

Wanted to draw the pleasure out but didn’t need to. There was no sadness hiding behind eyes, no waiting doom, no “this can’t happen again.” This _would_ happen again, and again, and Gale was already picking out their next positions… He wanted Randy on all fours, so he could worship that ass. And then he wanted Randy inside him, fucking him, because he _still_ ached from needing him closer.

So tight, so tight around his cock, Randy’s body squeezed Gale and squeezed the truth from him. Burning from the stretch and the want and the fire that struck that place so deep inside it made him scream, words burned Randy’s throat and made a bridge of Gale’s tongue.

“Rand, love… you.”

“Always you, always… _always_ …”

Hands mated on Randy’s dick, tugging frantically, almost not needed. Because he was coming, a million firecrackers going off at once in every nerve ending, his body doing its best to swallow Gale up inside it. They screamed into each other’s mouths, and Gale quaked and thrust and shuddered. He collapsed and melted into Randy, hand on his chest, lazily playing in the cum. Randy smiled and kissed Gale’s messy hair.

“Can you stay?” Gale asked, voice warm and muffled.

“Yes.”

And that one word made it okay a few minutes later when Gale carefully pulled out. And they slept.

**********

  


A few hours later, each having woken up to find the other just looking at them at least once, they broke into the honor bar and talked.

“So… why no more Simon?”

Randy frowned slightly, then shrugged, eating a couple of honey roasted peanuts off of Gale’s chest, making sure to lick up the honey dust. “It just… had to end. He’d become more of a roommate slash personal assistant than a boyfriend or partner.”

Gale liked that answer, but he gently grabbed Randy’s hair and angled his head back, making a buzzer sound. “I’m sorry, the correct answer is, ‘ _He wasn’t you, Gale.’_ ”

Randy pretended to scowl, sitting up. “Oh, but that’s so _obvious_.”

“Does that mean you need a new personal assistant? ‘Cause I’m not totally sure what one does, but I know I could do a fucking good job of, you know… taking your pants off at the end of a long, _hard_ day.”

“Really?”

“I’ll give you a massage… eat your ass… I’ll even iron your pants.”

“You sound too good to be true.”

“I would insist on being paid in blow jobs.”

“That could be arranged. Who would you put as a reference?”

“You.”

“Well, that’s easy enough to check.”

They laughed, tired laughter, but so fucking satisfied… and happy, in each other’s arms.

“We should probably go back to sleep.”

“You’ve got a show tomorrow.”

“You’ve got that meeting.”

“Yeah, too early for my taste.”

“…Then what?”

“Then… I don’t know. I don’t know how long it’s gonna take.”

“No, I mean… _then_ what?”

“Oh… I’m here for at least a month…”

“A month.”

“I mean, just for the movie. But… I love New York.”

“How much do you love it?”

“Greasy pizza, excellent theatre, and naked Randy Harrison in my bed? A whole fucking lot.”

“I rank third, after greasy pizza??”

“Shut up, you. We’ve got time now, and access, and… _awareness_ , is all I’m saying.”

Randy felt Gale’s heart speed up under his chin. Softly tapped the beat with his fingers. “Yeah. We do. And you know what else we’ve got?” From somewhere under twisted sheets, he emerged with the blindfold.

“My turn again?”

“Soon. I will not feel right sending you off to do this part until you know how a blind man comes.”

“Practice, practice, practice!”

“What?”

“Oh, no, that’s how you get to Carnegie Hall.”

Randy kissed his delicious mouth, not even soured by the bad joke. “Go to sleep.”

In the dark, they settled into each other, and Gale gave in, to Randy and to sleep, marveling how it had taken a loss of sight for their lives to fucking come into focus.


End file.
